


Masters of the Universe

by Kit_SummerIsle



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Foursome, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Sticky Sex, sparksex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 01:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and the former faction leaders rule the universe. More or less. But mainly they get to know each other in the berth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masters of the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of writing my regular stories, I indulged in writing a purely slashy story that is a first for me for two things: one, I never wrote a foursome and it was kinda hard to do, and two, I never wrote anything from Hot Rod's perspective. But really, that's all as far as the 'story' goes - it wanted to be written and I did it.

Title: Masters of the Universe  
Rating: M  
Verse: G1 if anything  
Characters: Megatron, Optimus Prime, Hot Rod, Starscream  
Warnings: detailed sticky foursome. sparksex. mpreg.

 

Hot Rod grunted in a slight discomfort when Megatron entered him, even after being stretched with his talented digits. Damn, the mech was big in every way. But the initial pain of being stretched wide and filled totally was soon gone and he started to move, the shallow thrusts rocking the flame-red mech, as the warlord seated himself fully and started to push him into the impatient Starscream again. The Seeker was always impatient, it seemed to Hot Rod, eager to be fragged into the berth any time of the orn and he complied to him this time too. They were halfway to overload when Megatron came in their chambers and without much ado started molesting the surprised mech from behind, managing to open his valve cover in no time. Well, he rarely ever been in a threesome and even after a vorn he wasn’t quite used to being near Megatron. Never mind this close. 

The thrusts deepened and got more forceful but it didn’t hurt any more, the initial slight burning was gone as his valve accepted the huge intruder. It made Starscream happy too, as Megatron pushed him deeper into the purring Seeker with every thrust, raising his ebbing charge once again. Hot Rod moaned as his arousal too grew again, together with his internal temperature, sandwiched as he was between the two bigger mechs. But it wasn’t over yet. Megatron didn’t come alone and Hot Rod’s mouth was soon captured by another, initiating a war of glossas, bringing Optimus’s beautiful face deliciously close. Frag, he couldn’t pay proper attention to all three of them at the same time. He wished he could.

But Optimus just laughed that strut-shaking, deep, rich laugh of his, like he heard that thought as he left Hot Rod’s mouth, kneeling up over the complaining Starscream. He heard an answering deep mirth from behind and Megatron slowed down his pace to map his spoiler with his oh-so-knowledgeable talons, eliciting a shuddering moan from Hot Rod. Optimus’s spike extended at once – the three of them must have been an arousing sight – and the flame coloured mech didn’t hesitate to lavish some licks to its tip, before a bolder thrust from Megatron pushed him forward to swallow it. 

Optimus and Starscream moaned in tandem, their differing pitch making it a most beautiful harmony he ever heard. Hot Rod took more of his length into his mouth, glossa teasing its underside, while his denta grazed it lightly from above. He saw Starscream lifting his servo to first tease Optimus’s valve, then to push a digit into it, while his thumb played on the anterior node. The Prime bucked into his mouth with a shrill howl, closer in pitch to Starscream than his usual tone, making him swallow his spike fully. He keened around the spike – the Prime wasn’t at all smaller than Megatron and Hot Rod was well and truly impaled from both ends – but the resonation from the muffled sound just brought Optimus up to speed and he started to move too.

Sandwiched and thrust into from both sides, Hot Rod couldn’t help but take their spikes deep and feel just a tiny bit smothered in by the three larger mechs surrounding him. He’s been with all of them individually before, with Starscream many times, but it was the first time the trine all gangbanged him. Not that he complained. Big as their spikes were, they could handle him with a surprising gentleness, not only not causing any harm or damage, but flooding him with an arousal so strong and overwhelming that Hot Rod simply ceased to consciously act and let them dictate the tempo and the actions. 

With his remaining small part of his consciousness, he wondered how strange it all was. He wasn’t around when the Matrix decided to take matters into its hand – so to speak – but it must have been a sight. He saw recording of the two armies, standing around totally stupefied as the Matrix declared Megatron and Starscream as Prime Candidates. That ended the war immediately of course, Optimus Prime would not wage it any more against his own possible successors and Primus’s will, while Megatron was satisfied enough with the honour to agree to the peace. Starscream… well, the Seeker ranted for close to a joor to Megatron about the proof of his superiority and whatnot, before the warlord silenced him. With a kiss. Now that must have been a sight.

The three of them bonded fairly soon after, re-founding the long dead Prime clan and everyone just nodded helplessly that it was really inevitable. Not that anyone in the armies changed overnight and became peaceniks with growing crystal flowers in their blasters, but what could any mech do against the will of Primus? They made peace and they tried to make the best of it in regards to relations with the former enemy. Even Ultra Magnus when he arrived with the last of the Cybertron army, declaring their planet unlivable in the foreseeable future just shrugged and accepted it. Interfacing helped in the uneasy relations. A lot.

The humans were a harder nut to crack, making them accept that their greatest enemies not only signed peace, remained on their planet for many of their lifetimes, and no mechs were tried for war crimes or in any way incarcerated, but also the leaders of the Decepticons became the two thirds of the joint leadership of all Cybertronians. It didn’t help matters that most humans were still homophobic, regarded mechs as males and consequently disapproved of their seemingly all male bond. Especially that it was a Trine. Especially, when they saw Starscream interfacing still with TC and Warp almost as much as his present bondmates. The casual and open relationship that restricted only the spark-merge within the bonded unit was nearly an anathema for them. Even after nearly a vorn they still got religious e-mails that excommunicated them from… somewhere. Not that they cared.

What may have exacerbated the situation was that neither of them was willing to comply with human sensibilities overasmuch and shamelessly made out anywhere on Earth. Including their airspace, with the two of them flight-capable and finding it fun to interface in the stratosphere and let frozen transfluid snow fall onto the desert. Some of those sightings and recording made even older mechs like Ratchet or Ironhide blush a bit and hurriedly find their own mates to settle their charge. By the time Hot Rod arrived to Earth the upheaval was more or less over and matters settled. Of course the mutterings started again when the Matrix proclaimed him too as a Prime Candidate.

So far the only good thing that came out of it was Starscream’s interest in him – otherwise mechs continued to grumble and rant about the Matrix being ‘senile’ and choosing inappropriate mechs – with which Hot Rod wholesparkedly agreed when it came to himself. Nor was he comfortable with the sudden limelight and the burden of many responsibilities that he didn’t want at the first place. But interfacing was good and Hot Rod would take his satisfaction wherever he could. He certainly could do that in their berth, like now. 

It was Megatron dictating the tempo mainly, just like almost always; the former Decepticon leader being just as dominant in the berth as he was outside it. Starscream always grumbled about being in the bottom but in truth he wasn’t a spike mech so they took his complaints as they always did, silencing him with a kiss or two. Ofttimes with a spike or two until he shut up and was happy. Hot Rod, as he had no strong preference in either way was just happy to be with them in any way – he was new enough and an outsider in the bond to boot, so he wasn’t going to demand anything. 

Optimus was the only one who got to top Megatron and even that was a rare thing, being as accommodating and gently dominant as the true Prime was. Albeit once they and the humans as well were treated with the sight of grand and majestic Optimus Prime tickling Megatron, the scourge of the universe, the feared and dreaded Slagmaker into fits of incessant laughter until he rolled on the floor breathless and spent in an entirely different way from interfacing. He still growled threateningly when that recording popped up as it was wont to do occasionally. Fortunately for him only Optimus knew how to – or dared to – do that to him. 

Hot Rod’s thoughts started to shatter as overload neared. He was moaning continuously now, with Optimus’s spike thrusting deeply into his mouth, Megatron’s impaling him with every thrust and pushing his turgid spike deep into the keening Starscream writhing underneath. Although he was the smallest mech of the four, Hot Rod had no reason to be ashamed by the size of the equipment that he packed, as Starscream discovered and enjoyed earlier. The Seeker was squirming and mewling underneath and Hot Rod spared him a single thought – if he felt smothered by the larger mechs, being in the middle, it must have been even worse for the flier under all of them. How he set his wings to be safe Hot Rod wasn’t sure.

But he couldn’t spare any more coherent thought as he felt the scorching hot pelvic plate of Megatron knock into his aft as he thrust into him with all he’s got and heard the deep growl starting up deep from his frame that heralded his release. He was ready to come too and the others weren’t far behind either. When Megatron thrust straining into him at last, ejecting his transfluid into his constricting valve and roared his overload, it made him go over too. 

With a howl he was pushed into Starscream to the hilt and squirted his load into the Seeker’s valve, and grazed his denta on Optimus’s spike, the last of his consciousness barely saving it from being a full bite. The Seeker pressed his digits into the Prime’s valve viciously and Hot Rod felt Optimus’s overload with transfluid streaming hotly down his intake and hearing the third roar. Starscream’s shrill keen was the last to join the cacophony, followed straight with his muffled complaint as they all started to sink onto him. 

Optimus had just enough strength and mind left to tip their collective bulk to the side and Hot Rod heard the Seeker’s thankful and relieved murmur from underneath. He felt Megatron to plop out of him, leaving a tingling, almost, but not quite painful sensation behind. Giving a few parting licks to Optimus’s spike he flopped down strutlessly beside Starscream on the huge berth that was almost bigger than his whole room, thoroughly sated, thoroughly spent and fast sinking into oblivion. 

But he still saw Megatron and Optimus slamming their lips together overhead for a scorching kiss. They too were tired, sated and more or less leaning to each other, but Hot Rod knew from previous experience that they were perfectly capable of going a few more rounds in mere kliks’ time. Not he, as he lay there, lazily petting the purring Starscream’s wing closer to him. The Seeker was almost adorable after interfacing, although he’d never dare to utter that sentiment aloud. He would be perfectly capable of just tearing his spike off for it.

Starscream’s famous temper wasn’t in the very least tamed by bearing a sparkling that was the size of his Sires’ and had Ratchet worriedly follow him everywhere until emergence, to make sure that Starscream didn’t exert himself too much. Or that his bondmates didn’t tire him out too much. The sparkling also didn’t lessen Starscream’s interface drive, therefore the little Starlight was oft times a visitor at his uncles, the happily accommodating Thundercracker and Skywarp, while his bondmates – and lately Hot Rod too – ground the shrieking Seeker into the berth.

Beside them Optimus flipped the grinning – and growling, but Hot Rod couldn’t even imagine the warlord without that sound - Megatron over and started on his transfluid and lubricant covered spike with his glossa. It was a rare sight to see him on his back, bulky, terror and awe inspiring head thrown back, talons clawing into the berth’s padding in an almost helpless pleasure as Optimus’s talented glossa teased him back to arousal. He wasn’t teased long and neither did he need much foreplay at this point and in a few kliks Optimus moved forward, glossa licking its way upwards on the silver-grey, spiky armour until he reached his neck with its vulnerable and incredibly sensitive cables.

His digits found their way into Megatron’s valve and although he groaned, slightly and faintly still protesting, he made no move to dislodge Optimus from over himself. Megatron never liked to take it in the bottom and he only ever allowed it to Optimus, and even that was rare. Hot Rod has never seen it before and even as Starscream’s lazy kiss distracted him somewhat, he continued to watch them at it. Optimus was visibly careful with his brother and bondmate, stretching him well before even trying to push his spike into the rarely used, therefore incredibly tight valve. 

He kissed Megatron too, moving up from his neck cords, swallowing his protests and groans with his mouth as he slowly, cautiously rocked into him. Hot Rod from his viewpoint to their side saw the warlord’s cables go taut at the intrusion and relax slowly as Optimus let him get used to the length impaling him, while his hands went about to distract him from the slight discomfort. He and Starscream were still quite spent but they crawled closer to their berthmates, Starscream stroking the silvery armor that flared at his expert touch, letting his talons reach the sensitive wiring underneath. The flame coloured mech too added a servo to his efforts, fondling the plasma cannon’s connection points that he knew to be a highly erogenous zone. 

Together they managed to reduce Megatron to a puddle of relaxed goo, moaning and squirming like a pleasurebot under Optimus who, sensing Megatron relaxing started to pull out and thrust back into his valve, slowly at first but picking up the tempo soon. It was, as Hot Rod thought, somewhere between terrifying and amazing to see them go at it, especially Optimus’s gentler, calmer but still unbelievably overpowering dominance as it conquered Megatron’s louder, more showy and commanding presence.

He left the twitching silvery arm to Starscream and crawling down on the berth by the huge frame, Hot Rod cautiously first but emboldened by the reactions slowly slid his digits around the warlord’s valve rim, as it was stretched taut around Optimus’s thrusting spike. Megatron snarled almost, it was more by then than a simple growl, but Optimus swallowed his sounds again with his dominant glossa pushing as deep as his spike went into the hot, tight valve. Hot Rod continued to rim the valve with a digit, but he was just able to sneak his other servo between their scorching hot frames, enclose it around the warlord’s spike and give it a few good squeezes.

He was rewarded by Megatron bucking his hips helplessly up, almost squashing his servo between them and he was sure to hear a muffled curse too that was smothered by Starscream this time, capturing his leader’s mouth from upside down, brooking no resistance. Hot Rod almost laughed – it probably would have been his last laugh ever, had the silver mech heard his thoughts – at the sight of Megatron spread out under the three of them, totally helplessly, unable to do more than twitch or jerk a body part in a mindless, keening pleasure.

But Optimus wasn’t done yet and leaning forward onto Megatron’s frame he slowly parted his chest-plates, revealing his bright spark, fast-pulsing with his arousal. Megatron answered wordlessly with baring his own spark, and Hot Rod stopped in his ministrations for a breem, just watching the spectacle as Optimus gently stroked the edges of the bared spark-chamber; he never saw another mech’s spark before, much less his leaders’ and the Matrix itself. It was only for bondmates or nearly so and certainly not something he was invited to share. They moaned in tandem as their spinning orbs neared and merged slightly, their core temperature jumping ever higher with the contact, optics whitening out in mindless bliss.

Hot Rod finally managed to tear his sight from the merging sparks and get back to his handiwork. His servo left one valve rim for the other nearby and it was Optimus’s time to moan and buck sensually as he pushed two digits in, swirling them around in the dripping, hot valve and curling in rhythm with his squeezes on Megatron’s spike. His tempo became erratic as he divided his attention on thrusting into Megatron and pushing his own constricting, pulsing valve down onto Hot Rod’s digits.

He was close again and the flame coloured mech didn’t tease him; he pushed the third digit in as deep as it went and pressed down on the anterior node hard with his thumb until he heard the straining roar from above; and snatched his servo from between them just in time before it was crushed by the bucking and also overloading Megatron. The light show from their sparks took away his voice too; it was more like a supernova flashing up than a mere spark-overload, the Matrix’s flashing brilliance throwing myriad colours around.

He still got a few splotches from his transfluid squirting between them from Megatron’s spike and tasted it as well as Optimus’s lubricants from his other servo that he pulled out as soon as the constricting valve let him go. Frag, Hot Rod thought, he put a dent on the plating of his digits just with the strength that he got in that valve. Optimus had no problem with splaying out on top of Megatron in his post-overload haze, like he did before when it was the slighter and lighter build of Starscream at the bottom. Nor did the silver mech complained at the treatment; he could easily bear the weight of all three of them if needed. They lay there for a few kliks, vents straining to dispel heat and processors trying to catch up with their consciousness. 

Hot Rod had the sneaking suspicion that Optimus was quite up to continuing the berth play, and it was confirmed when he turned his smoldering optics – how could blue optics smolder, he wasn’t sure, but the Prime’s certainly did at that point – towards him, drawing the flame coloured mech to him over Megatron’s still supine frame with a distinctly lewd expression. Lifting the lubricant and transfluid covered servo, he slowly and sensuously licked the digits slowly clear of his own and Megatron’s fluids one by one, like they were the most delicious treat he ever had. 

It was hotter than magma and Hot Rod couldn’t stand not drawing his helm closer when he finished for a searing kiss. Hearing a throaty laugh from the side, he saw Starscream’s helm colliding with theirs, sharing in the kiss as much as anatomy allowed it. Optimus Prime looked at him with a wink and a smirk, and understanding the intent, they both got hold of a quivering, white wingtip, fondling it until the Seeker crawled forward onto his growling leader, pushing his wings into their hands fully. 

Hot Rod was emboldened with the audibly resigned growls from the only half-there and completely buried Megatron and with a sudden, devious idea he sat up and straddled the silver waist. Even Optimus was looking slightly apprehensive at that, but Hot Rod wasn’t going to suicide by trying to top Megatron. He squirmed slightly, rubbing his equipment onto the warlord’s but pulled the Seeker up too until the dark faceplates were directly above his spike. 

Starscream more or less lay or rather half-kneeled on his leader, positioning his crotch above his stormy faceplates while starting to lick Hot Rod’s spike slowly and sensuously, distinctly teasing this time. Optimus shuffled over too, approaching the Seeker from behind and seeing that Megatron wasn’t inclined to make use of the flier’s exposed and still quite messy equipment just above him, he positioned himself by the Seeker’s valve. Megatron’s growling was getting louder, complaining about his position underneath them all and getting none of the attention. 

His growls cut out completely though, when Hot Rod lifted himself with his hands grasping the silver hips and carefully, not dislodging his spike from Starscream’s talented mouth, scooted backwards a bit and slowly seated himself on the warlord’s spike again, pushing down with a determination he didn’t know he had. Optimus at the same time pushed into the Seeker’s valve, rocking him forward, helping him to follow Hot Rod’s spike. The moans that tore from all their lips at once intertwined in a strange cacophonic harmony. 

It wasn’t a position in which they could move much, only Optimus, who had free space to thrust into Starscream and Hot Rod saw the still supine warlord’s optics wide and taking in the action directly over his helm with a distinct wonder. He more or less just rocked on Megatron’s massive length, massaging it with his spiraling valve walls and straining calipers, while Starscream lavished delicious attention on his spike, his nose plating knocking on his pelvic plate occasionally when Optimus pitched him forward strongly.  
Hot Rod could only hope that this whole evening would never make it into the rumour mill, because it was fast becoming the most lewd, sensual, obscene but amazing thing he ever took part in. By this time more or less all of them were covered in lubricant and transfluid splotches, paint transfers of every colour and some dents that their strength inevitably caused during such vigorous exercises. Not that he would give it up for anything on this world, not even for the Matrix. 

The stamina of his berthmates at which they still went on frankly humbled him; Hot Rod as younger and brash bots wont to do, believed that he was vigorous and energetic enough to interface anyone with no problem and keep up with any partner that he knew of. But here he was, surrounded by some of his heroes and legends in one berth… and he was barely able to take their attention, much less initiate it or do much as they went on and included him in it.

Megatron started to buck and thrust up into him stronger, clearly unsatisfied with his teasing, small movements. Amazingly, Starscream was perfectly able to ride his upwards thrusts and Optimus’s fastening tempo as well with a rhyming, undulating move of his own and never miss Hot Rod’s spike from his servos and mouth. Those sharp dentas tormented his equipment in a way that was just shy of being painful while taking him to the edge a number of times. He couldn’t do much to reciprocate than fastening his trembling servos on the white wingtips and squeeze them in time with the thrusts he received from underneath. 

It was Optimus this time who overloaded first with a howl and a particularly strong thrust forward into Starscream, who went with him and sprayed Megatron with his transfluid, keening his release around the spike deep in his intakes. The warlord wasn’t happy about it and gave sign of his displeasure with an almost vicious thrust upwards that made Hot Rod see stars as he knocked on his ceiling nodes strongly. He was taken over the edge roaring too, emptying himself into the Seeker’s mouth, while grasping the impaling spike with his valve so strongly that for a klik he was afraid to cause it some damage. 

Megatron did end his roar of completion with a grunt of almost pain and Hot Rod hurriedly relaxed his valve calipers as much as his half-dazed state allowed. Starscream flopped forward, spent too, just barely avoiding to bump his spent spike into the warlord’s lipplates who at the moment was not a particularly happy mech, despite of all the overloads he too got. Hot Rod strongly suspected that the position they were in won’t be repeatedly tried in the near future. Maybe not ever if his angry complaints from down under were to be taken seriously. 

He hurriedly vacated his perch on the silvery hips, drawing the sated Seeker with him, cuddling all the time; and let the smiling and happy Optimus make up to his irate brother and bondmate. Megatron’s hurt pride did insist on taking Optimus for the last time, but Hot Rod was perfectly content on just watching that ride and cuddling with Starscream who tried to tease him a few more times, but after all was satisfied enough to settle down and with just barely there touches keep up the flame coloured mech’s charge. 

The Seeker only left him when Megatron and Optimus bared their sparks again, calling out for their third in a way only bondmates could; and their three-way merge, enhanced by the Matrix’s brilliance fused the three of them together in a way that left Hot Rod totally envious. Not that he had any reason to be, he tried to convince himself, they did let him into their berth, if not into the bond. He suspected that they were trying for another sparkling too, albeit Hot Rod could only wonder after such chaotic berth-plays as to who would carry it; they seemed to have an equal chance, although Optimus did tease Megatron to fits of embarrassed rage sometimes by naming him the best option for it.

Hot Rod definitely knew one thing though. He would not stick around for a carrying Megatron if the warlord displayed manyfold the same mood-swings and peculiarities that the Seeker did. The two bigger and stronger bondmates could barely calm down and restrain the Seeker sometimes while he was with the sparkling – but who could do the same for Megatron, he didn’t know. But all the same, he’d want to see the former Decepticons’ faces if they ever had to listen to that fact being announced.


End file.
